


An Ache That You Can't Ignore

by orphan_account



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The call doesn't take long at all to go through."P.T. Barnum speaking."(Some good, old fashioned phone sex, in which Phineas is tired, and Phillip is far too easily affected by his partners voice.)





	An Ache That You Can't Ignore

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt from a friend in the Barlyle discord server, basically just Phil having quite a Thing for Phineas' voice. 
> 
> Established relationship, set during the Jenny Lind tour timeline.

 

The call doesn’t take long at all to go through. When Phillip had given the hotel receptionist Barnum’s name, she had sniffed rudely, but had been quick to get Phineas on the line.

 

“PT Barnum speaking.”

 

His voice is rough with sleep, low and almost growling, and it sends a pang of longing through Phillip’s stomach. He forces a laugh.

 

“Glad to hear you sounding as lively as always.”

 

There’s a pause, then Phineas sighs. Phillip can imagine the man running a hand down his own face.

 

“Phil. What can I do for you? Is everything running smoothly? No one’s been giving you any trouble?”

 

Phillip bit down on his bottom lip sheepishly. Truth be told, he had no fair reason for calling Phineas, other than a heat in his stomach at memories of his lovers touch, and an unignorable desire to hear his voice again.

 

“Don’t worry yourself, we’re all fine here,” Phillip murmurs, shifting in his chair to uncross his legs. “What about you? How are things with Miss Lind? She’s not truly as much of a nightmare to work with as some people say, is she?”

 

Phineas laughs, the sound so deep and warm it seems to vibrate down Phillip’s spine, and he can feel that familiar heat settling in his stomach. He reaches down to press a hand to the front of his trousers, biting his lip to keep Phineas from hearing the hitch in his breath.

 

“Things are fine with Jenny. She can be a bit...forward sometimes,” Phineas admits, and Phillip barely manages to stop the unimpressed snort that builds in him, “but she’s doing great in her shows. The people really seem to like her.”

 

The younger man huffs lightly, embarrassed by the jealousy he feels at Phineas’ admiration for the singer. His hand is shifting nervously at its position between his legs, when Phineas speaks again.

 

“But to be completely honest, I’d much rather be there with you.”

 

The admission is soft, and it’s enough to have Phillip shivering, a gasp making its way past his lips involuntarily.

“Phillip? Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes! I’m fine!” he stutters, too proud to give Phineas a chance to catch on to how much his voice is affecting the younger man. “But, surely travelling across the country is more exciting than being stuck here at our little show?”

 

He regrets it as soon as he says it, a wave of disgust at himself washing over him. It’s a disrespect to the hard work of the others, the hours spent perfecting songs and dances and dazzling trapeze tricks. And it’s no doubt an insult to Phineas, the man who had worked hard to get the circus where it was, no matter what the petty little voice at the back of Phillip’s head accusing PT of abandoning them had to say in the matter.

 

Phillip hears the showman make a noise of disapproval and is that bit more embarrassed at the arousal the older man’s voice is awakening in him.

 

“Hey now, don’t go selling our little show short! You think I haven’t noticed how hard you’ve all been working? Especially you. I know my leave was sudden, but you’ve stepped up as leader perfectly.”

  
Phillip glows at the praise, hand moving in circles against the tight heat building between his legs. He can't stop a nervous laugh, practically a giggle.  
  
"I learned from the best," he stutters.  
  
"Nonsense, it's all you!" Phineas insists. "You're a natural performer, Phillip. And to think, you didn't even want to take up my offer the first time we met!"  
  
Phillip's hips have started to join the movement of his hand, pressing up against his open palm. A part of him is ashamed at how quickly the slightest praise from Phineas makes his stomach flutter, but he's too hot to care much about it right now.  
  
"I miss you, Phin," he whines, mouth moving without thought. A scorching blush spreads up his neck at his own words, his own whimpering tone, but it's too late now to take it back.  
  
There's a pause, and Phineas laughs again, rumbling and affectionate.  
  
“Really? I've only been gone a week, and you already sound ready to cry!" the older man teases, trying to liven the conversation back up.  
  
Phillip can't respond, too caught up in the pleasure his own touches are bringing him. His hand moves rapidly to undo the front of his trousers and slip them down, fingers teasing the desperate heat of his cock.  
  
"Come on now, Phillip, you know I won't be gone too long! You'll see me again before you know it."  
  
That little voice in Phillip's mind cries out again, begging for Phineas to come back _now, please._  
  
"I look forward to seeing the show again," Phineas goes on, completely oblivious to his apprentice’s less than professional behaviour. "I can't wait to finally get to see you out there in the ring."  
  
Phillip stops.  
  
"I'm sure you'll look amazing out there. That jacket was made especially for you, after all."  
  
The younger can only nod helplessly, hand wrapping around his cock and tugging slowly.  
  
"I wish I could have seen you perform before I had to leave, but I suppose that just gives me something to look forward to. Seeing you out there in your red and gold. All dressed in my colours."  
  
The possessiveness in Phineas' words is what does Phillip in, and he doesn't manage to stifle the moan they pull from him as he squeezes his hand around his dick gently.  
  
The silence that follows is thunderous.  
  
Phillip can hear his own heart thumping in his ears, can hear Phineas' brief sputtering on the other end of the line. His face feels as if it's burning.  
  
He wonders what Phineas must be thinking of him. Calling him up this late at night, just so he could touch himself shamelessly to the sound of the older man’s voice.  
  
"Phin?" He mumbles, the silence from the other end of the phone starting to stretch on too long.  
  
"Phillip..." His voice has that same husky tone he always used during their more intimate moments, the same one that drove Phillip up the wall with want every time he heard it.  
  
"Are you touching yourself?"  
  
The question is so blatantly put that Phillip can only splutter embarrassedly.  
  
"I was- no, I-"  
  
  
"Don't lie to me, boy."  
  
Phillip's voice dies with a broken whine, Barnum's commanding tone making his cock jerk in his hand.  
  
"Yes," he whimpers pathetically.  
  
"'Yes' _what?_ " Phineas demands, and Phillip pants heavily.  
  
"I was touching myself."  
  
There's silence again. Phineas is quick to recover this time.  
  
“You like my voice, Phillip? Is that it?"  
  
Now Phillip is silent. He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes.  
  
"Answer me, Phillip."  
  
"Yes. I like your voice."  
  
Phineas chuckles darkly.  
  
"What a sweet thing you are."  
  
"I...what?" Phillip barely gets the words out, struggling to keep up with what Phineas is saying.  
  
"Frankly, I'm flattered. I rather like the idea of you being so desperate for me that just hearing me talk business is enough to leave you with your hand down your pants."  
  
The younger man makes a feeble moaning sound, and Phineas groans.  
  
"There's that sound I like."  
  
Phillip's hand is picking up its pace again, his hips jerking up from the chair as he tries to get his trousers further down his legs, give himself more room to spread out.  
  
"Tell me what you're doing, Phillip."  
  
"I-I'm trying to get my pants off."  
  
"What are you doing with your _hands_ , doll."  
  
The affectionate name draws a pleased hum from Phillip, who babbles into the phone.  
  
"Touching my cock. Your voice makes me so hard, Phin, I'm so hard for you."  
  
Phillip finally manages to kick his trousers off, and hooks one of his legs over the arm of the chair, giving him more leverage to push up into his own fist.  
  
"God, you must make such a pretty picture. All spread out and jerking your own cock, whining for me," Phineas growls, shifting in his own chair. "The things I'd do to you if I were there, Phillip... I'd have you coming apart under me, looking so perfect."  
  
Phillip can only manage a shaking chant of "yes yes yes" in response, and he almost misses what Phineas says next.  
  
"I want you to stop for a moment."  
  
The keening noise of protest that pulls itself from Phillip is like the cry of an animal.  
  
"I said _stop_ , Phillip. You won't be coming tonight unless you do it the way I tell you to."  
  
Phillip stops, breathing loudly, the room suddenly feeling sweltering, and him unable to do anything about it.  
  
"I want you to take your hand away from your cock," the older man instructs, "and bring it slowly up your chest."  
  
The way Phineas draws out the vowels of his words leaves Phillip shaking, but he does as he's told, bringing his hand slowly up, over his hips and stomach, as the other man talks.  
  
"Here's what's going to happen," Phineas purrs, "I'm going to tell you everything I would do to you if I were there with you. And you're going to do everything I say. Understand me?"  
  
He doesn't bother waiting for a response.  
  
"First, I'd scratch my nails down your chest. I’d leave those little pink lines that look so pretty on you."  
  
Phillip does as he's told, shirt pushed up around his pecs, hand trembling as he drags his nails over his own skin. The mild sting of grounds him.  
  
"I'd play with those perfect nipples," Phineas says, "take them between my fingers, pinch til you begged me to stop, _bite_ them."  
  
Phillip's head is hanging over the back of the chair, mouth gaping open, his breath puffing in and out erratically. He pinches one of his nipples between his thumb and forefinger, trying to copy the way Phineas always tugged on them. His cock twitches against his stomach, leaking precum onto his thighs.  
  
Phillip's own voice seems too loud in the empty space of the office, every moan echoing off the high ceilings. The whole circus is silent apart from him.  
  
"I'd run my hand back down your stomach. You always arch up into me when I do. So lovely, and all for me. I'd touch your cock, but only lightly. Barely. Not enough to be what I know you want."  
  
"Phin, please..."  
  
"You heard me, Phillip."  
  
He does as he’s told, wrapping his fingers loosely around his own length, touch feather light and maddening. A part of him wants to disobey, to jerk himself to satisfaction, but Barnum will know if he does, and Phillip doesn't want him to stop talking.  
  
"Phin...Phineas..a-ah.."  
  
"You're so gorgeous when you let me make a mess of you, angel. I can't tell you how much I wish I was there with you. I've missed you too."  
  
Phillip can't stop the lovestruck smile that spreads across his face, even as his hand shakes with the need to keep touching himself.  
  
"I want to fuck you open, watch you come apart," Phineas murmurs. "I'd push my fingers past those lovely lips, watch you get them nice and wet for me to loosen you up with."  
  
The younger man takes it as a command. He takes his hand from his dick, reaching up to push three fingers past his lips, running his tongue over them and closing his eyes, imagining they're Phineas'.  
  
"Watching you push yourself back against my hand, whining right into my ear. You like to act all proud, but you love being under me, don't you, little cub?"  
  
Phillip makes a shrill noise in the back of his throat, pulling his fingers from his mouth and reaching down to slowly press one into his hole.  
  
"I want to watch you get yourself ready for me, watch you push your fingers into yourself, even though you know they'll never be big enough to satisfy you.  
  
“I’d make you beg for me. You'd be crying by the time I even consider fucking you properly. Lying on my bed, face down, with your ass in the air and your fingers pushing in as far as you can get them, but not as deep as you want them. Not as deep as you know I could get."  
  
He has two fingers inside himself, and is working the third in. Phillip's whole body shakes, and it's a miracle the phone hasn't fallen. He's already aching to have something bigger, thicker, opening him.  
  
His fingers hit that spot inside of him that Phineas was so good at finding, and he cries out, arching his back.  
  
"Phineas! Oh god, I need it, need you in me, please, please, please,” he babbles, near crying now, tears blurring his vision. "Let me touch myself, let me touch my dick, please, Phin, I need to come, need it now."  
  
"No. Keep your hands away from there. You're going to come on your own fingers."  
  
The tears roll down Phillip's face, but he can feel his release building, and keeps pushing his hips down, aiming for that sweet little spot. He swears he sees stars every time he hits it directly.  
  
"Phineas, Phin, Phin, Phin," all he can do is babble. Phineas groans in his ear.  
  
"Yes, Phillip, that's it... Such a good boy, so perfect for me, my perfect boy..."  
  
Under the sound of his voice, Phillip can hear movement, and realises that Barnum has been touching himself too.  
  
He imagines Phineas, sitting in his hotel room, jerking his dick to the sound of Phillip's voice while giving him orders to touch and finger himself, and finally, _finally_ , comes with a scream of " _Phineas!"_  
  
For a few minutes, the world seems to go blank. He lies back against the chair, greedily sucking in air, chest and hand covered in his own mess. Staring at the ceiling, it seems to take hours for the sound of Phineas' voice to reach him again.  
  
"...lip? Phillip, are you still with me?"  
  
"I'm here. I'm still here, just...tired, that's all."  
  
"I'd imagine so," Phineas chuckles. "Where are you at the moment?"  
  
"Our office."  
  
A pause.  
  
"At one in the morning, Phil?"  
  
Phillip bites his lip, then mumbles, "I can't sleep without you."  
  
"Well, you'll have to try! I can't have you passing out during a show!"  
  
He huffs, and Phin chuckles.  
  
"I am glad you called me, Phillip" the elder says, soft and loving. "I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise."  
  
Phillip hums in response, bending to pull his trousers off the floor.  
  
"Now, get some rest, my little prince."  
  
"I will. I love you, Phineas."  
  
"I love you too, Phillip. More than you could know."  
  
The call ends with a click.


End file.
